


They Say that Distractions Can Kill You

by ravnreyes



Series: The100femslash February Challenge [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Stuck in small places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3321035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravnreyes/pseuds/ravnreyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indra and Octavia are stuck in the airlock, and no one is looking for them. Indra takes the opportunity for an impromptu training session.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Say that Distractions Can Kill You

Octavia had to say, when she was younger, she has always fantasized about being trapped in a small space with someone. In the books Bellamy had read to her, those moments were always filled with sexual tension, long glances and awkward silences. Now that she was in that position, she was very positive she no longer wanted to be.

The girl glanced over to the other side of the airlock, where Indra was pacing like a madwoman. Ever since the doors had unexpectedly closed on them, the Grounder woman had been doing her best to avoid any and all contact with Octavia. While that was probably for the best, Octavia couldn’t help but feel almost insulted. Indra had agreed to train her to be her second, but now she couldn’t even look at her.

“Indra, stop,” she said finally from her place against the far wall. No one was going to come looking for them. At this point, most everyone in Camp Jaha knew that Indra had been training Octavia, and wouldn’t dare disturb the two of them. There was no reason for anyone to be near the airlock, not without a prisoner.

Indra paused for only a moment before she began to pace again. She was muttering to herself in trigadesleng, too quiet and too quickly for Octavia to understand, but she could guess her discomfort from her body language.

With a huff, Octavia leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. If she was going to be stuck there, might as well take advantage of some down time.

Of course, she should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy. It felt like mere moments after she closed her eyes that heard the soft slide of a blade exiting its sheath. Octavia opened her eyes, managing to roll away before Indra’s dagger could pierce her shoulder. The Ark might not let weapons through, but they were naïve if they thought that Indra only had a sword and a dagger or two on her. Jumping to her feet, Octavia dropped into a defensive stance.

The Grounder leader took no mercy and used the moment as another opportunity to charge. Octavia ducked out of the way, lunging for a piece of plywood that had been left in the corner. Swinging the plank around, she managed to catch Indra across the torso, and she hoped it was enough to keep her down.

No such luck.

“You know, for an old lady, you’re pretty spry,” Octavia called out, holding out the piece of wood in her hand like a sword. It probably wouldn’t do much damage, but if she was lucky, she could maybe disarm Indra with it.

Indra let out an unexpected laugh, but it was cold and not very comforting at all. “Even your insults are childish,” she lobbed back, just before she went on the offensive again. It took everything Octavia had to block the fierce slashes that Indra kept throwing at her, but as she was distracted with the blade, she let her guard down on her left side. A fierce punch hit her cheek, and soon enough, her back was touching the wall.

With a stroke of luck, Octavia managed to knock the dagger out of Indra’s hand, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next. Chapped lips crashed onto hers and for a brief moment, Octavia started but she eventually relaxed into the kiss. It was nicer than she expected it to be, with a sort of gentleness that she had never really associated with the Grounder. Of course all that disappeared the second she felt a blade press against her side.

“You’re dead,” Indra growled, stepping away and sheathing her blade. She picked up the one Octavia had knocked away and put that one away too before moving back to stand in front of the airlock.

Octavia’s head was spinning. One moment, they’d been training, then they’d been kissing, and now Indra was back to her usual stoic self. “Wait, what just—” She crossed the small space of the airlock quickly until she was standing next to the woman. “What was that?” she demanded.

Indra barely glanced at her with a derisive look. “You must expect any distraction, and learn to push past that surprise,” she told her impassively. “Otherwise, you’ll be dead.”

Octavia sputtered. “Are you telling me that was a _distraction_?” she asked. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at Indra. If she hadn’t been watching her so closely, she might have missed the brief flicker of something in the Grounder’s eyes.

“Yes. It was meant to catch you off guard.”

Octavia stared at Indra because while it made sense, there was something about the entire situation that seemed off. She didn’t have a chance to push before a guard came walking around the corner, stopping short at the sight of the women in the airlock.

“Finally,” Indra hissed. “Let us out of this ridiculous space,” she snapped at the man. He jumped to attention and pressed the button for the airlock and watched, mouth gaping, as Indra strode past him. Octavia followed, feeling her eye already begin to swell from the impromptu training session, but she paid him no mind.

“Indra wait!” Octavia sped up to catch up with the woman, intent on finding out more about what just happened. She didn’t buy that it was just supposed to be a distraction. Everything she knew about Indra told her that she would sooner stab herself than to kiss an opponent. Grasping Indra’s wrist, she yanked the woman into a supply closet, and quickly found herself pressed to the door with a blade hovering dangerously by her throat.

“Touching me without permission have gotten better warriors than you killed,” Indra warned, her voice soft and gravelly. Octavia let go of the Grounder’s wrist and was relieved when she pulled away the blade.

“We need to talk about this,” Octavia insisted. “That’s just not something people do,” she said.

Indra let out a growl that could rival a wolf’s, and faced Octavia with an irritated expression. “There is nothing to talk about. Your need for an explanation does not change that fact,” she said. “Now I am done with small spaces and your face for the time being, so let me pass or you will need to find someone else to train you.”

Octavia blanched at the threat because she knew that Indra would follow through on it. Turning around, she reached for the handle and froze as it wouldn’t turn. Of all the ironies. Facing Indra once more, she managed a sheepish smile. “So… slight problem,” she mumbled. “The door’s locked.”

Octavia didn’t know that Indra could turn that particular shade of red.

“You have got to be kidding me. You best pray that someone lets us out soon, or they will only find your corpse.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super behind on these, but real life has sadly caught up to me. Hopefully, I can keep this muse running for a bit. Written for the100femslash February Trope Challenge. You can find me at ravnreyes.tumblr.com if you have other prompts, comments, concerns, etc. Feedback is always a plus :]


End file.
